Underneath it all
by singyoutosleep
Summary: Futurefic. Finn and Rachel haven't seen each other for five years. Their reunion is at Mike and Tina's wedding. It probably doesn't go the way that either of them have planned it to go, but they're not complaining. Smut warning.


So, Finn Hudson has pretty much come to the conclusion that he's an _idiot_. Of course, he's had other moments where that realization has hit him before (like the time Puck forced him to swallow a marble on a dare), but he's realizing just how stupid he is. He knows better than to think that she's doing it for him, but she's strutting around at Mike and Tina's wedding and she looks _spectacular_. Those weird knee socks and animal sweaters and the other bad fashion statements are gone. She's in a floor-length sparkling number with a plunging v-neck and he's thankful that he's not fifteen anymore because he would have just had mailman issues.

But he's not fifteen, he's twenty-three and it's been five years since he let her go, since he was stupid enough to let Quinn convince him that Rachel Berry was bigger than him, and he had to stay in Lima with her and get married and have babies and take over Burt's tire shop.

The relationship didn't even last six months past the end of high school. Quinn was tiring and he could only put up with so much of her Scary Quinn mode before he went nuts and eventually, he had just reached his end, run out, and had never looked back. Before they could get to the engagement and babies part, of course.

He had thought about going to New York to look for Rachel and tell her that he was sorry and that he still loved her, but he was a coward. He'd been a coward for a long time. Five years, actually. And for that long, he'd had this image of her in her short skirts and knee sweaters and being exactly the same girl that she was when she left Lima. He didn't know why he hadn't expected her to change but when he had seen her, there was only one term to accurately describe his appreciation for Rachel Berry's new look: _instant hard-on_.

His eyes had been on her all evening. Even though this was supposed to be Mike and Tina's day, even Mike and Tina were whispering about how good she looked. The way she was walking around the room screamed, "Yes, I was right about me being an instant star on Broadway. You can kindly take your skepticism and shove it," but yet she looked so graceful. She was laughing and having fun and Santana and Brittany looked like they were having a hard time not dragging her to the nearest closet. The only person who seemed wholly unsurprised was Kurt, probably because they were both in New York and saw each other regularly. Finn was really going to have to have a talk with his brother about keeping secrets like the fact that his ex-girlfriend had transformed into a total walking sex bomb at some point since he had last seen her. He also suspected that Kurt had quite a bit to do with this transformation in the first place.

Basically, to sum it up, he was just as smitten with Rachel Berry as the day she had told him that he could kiss her. He wanted her just as much as he wanted her that day and as much as he had wanted her the day he lied and told her that he didn't love her anymore. He would never forget the look on her face.

Unfortunately, it was also the look that she was sporting as she seemed to notice him, finally.

It wasn't like he should have been hard to spot. He was Mike's best man, since they had attended OSU together and had been roommates up until tonight, so he was sitting with them at the head table. Mike kept watching him watch Rachel and kept giving him this look like 'You're an idiot' and he could only agree. _Why did I think that Quinn was right?_

If he had just listened to his heart, he would probably be married to her by now. But she was probably dating some fellow Broadway performer while he was here in Lima, doing absolutely nothing with his life. He worked for Burt, had no girlfriend, and spent most of his nights at home playing X-Box.

"Go talk to her, man," Mike sighed, shaking his head. "You look like a depressed puppy or something. It's been five years, I don't think she's going to bitch you out for going to say hello."

"Yeah, you're right," Finn nodded, watching as she went to sit at a table by herself with her glass of champagne. "I mean, I'm just going to say hi," he added, unsure if he was trying to convince Mike or himself more of the fact that it was going to be just a harmless conversation.

There was no such thing as a harmless conversation where Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry involved. They only had two extremes: overwhelmingly cute and adorable or overwhelming disastrous. Given how things had gone the last time he had seen her, he was going to say that it was the latter, in this case.

Taking a deep breath as he walked over to the table, Finn looked down at her, making an effort to smile. His palms were sweaty and he was sure that he was no longer breathing. "Hi," he managed, sticking his hands in his pockets. He felt like he was back in the halls of McKinley High, after he had broken up with her the first time and he realized that he wanted her back. He felt like he was sixteen again and he knew, instantly, that this was not going to go well.

"Hello, Finn," Rachel replied, sipping at her champagne absentmindedly, as he caught her exchange glances with Kurt. _Great_. Whatever was going to happen during this conversation was completely coached and pre-rehearsed. "How are Quinn and the children you told me you were going to have with her?"

_Fuck_. "Uh, well, you were sitting with Quinn and Puck, so you're aware that we're no longer together, so you'd have to ask her how she's doing," he muttered, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Can I help you with something?" she inquired, making an effort to look like she couldn't be more bored by him if he tried.

"If that's the kind of show you put on every night, I don't see how you've already won two Tonys," Finn snapped, shaking his head. Instantly, he saw the façade crack. There was Rachel, the _real_ one, not the one that his brother had apparently coached her to be. They were _so_ having a chat. And by chat, Finn was going to forcibly punch his brother in the arm for being such a dick. Seriously.

"You know that I've won two Tony awards?" she asked, her tone bordering on amazing. He wasn't sure why that was so important, it wasn't like she didn't know that the Lima Star had her on the front page of the paper for almost a week straight every time it happened. He'd literally have to be blind to not know that. And okay, he might have gotten up early to check the nominations and he might have been watching online every year to see if she had won in her category (she had totally been _robbed_ this year), but he didn't see what the big deal was.

"Uh… yeah?" he replied, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Finny, dance with me," she grinned. That big, wide grin that looked like it was stretching off of her face it was so huge. The one she only ever smiled at him. His stomach did a weird flip-flop thing and that he couldn't describe. It had been a long time since it had done that over anyone. He didn't have too much time to read into it because Rachel was pulling him too her as she stood up. _Why does she only want me to dance when she's drunk?_ He was suddenly having flashbacks to that party in her basement in junior year, when she had said something very similar, if not exactly the same thing to him. He had been an ass to her that night, calling her the clingy girl drunk. Apparently her resolve never to drink again had worn off.

_Mailman_. Oh God, did he really just say that to himself? Yes, yes he did, but Rachel was grinding her hips against his gently and his chest was feeling a little tight… among other things. "You're kind of an asshole," she mumbles, so quietly that he can barely make out what she's saying over the loud boom of the music. Their swaying doesn't even match the beat (which is saying something because Finn Hudson and recognizing a dance beat are not two terms that usually go in the same sentence), but she doesn't seem to notice.

"I had this whole speech planned out with Kurt about how much better off I am without you and how I need to thank you for letting me go because it pushed me to become a star, but you're so hot. When did you get so hot? And short… why do you seem taller?" she inquired, furrowing her brows at him suspiciously like he did something wrong.

"It's cause you're wearing heels, Rachel," Finn reminded her, looking down at her heels and _Jesus take the wheel_, those were stripper heels. He guessed that it was because she didn't want her dress to drag, since she was so tiny, but those were a _total_ turn on.

"Oh yeah," Rachel frowned, looking down at her heels. "Do you like my dress?"

"You look amazing," he replied, smiling slightly. It felt so… good to be close to her, to have her in his arms again, drunk or not. It felt like the missing piece of a puzzle, and the way she was looking up at him was making his heart beat really quickly.

"I miss you," she whispered, looking down at the floor, like she knew that she shouldn't be saying it. She shouldn't have, but he was glad that she did.

"I miss you too, Rachel," he nodded, chewing on his lip. "I was really stupid to let you go." There, he had said it. It was actually the stupidest decision that he had ever made, if he was being honest. Not because she looked stunning, and gorgeous, and sexy, but because he missed the way she made him feel. The way that he felt right now.

"You said you didn't love me anymore," Rachel reminded him, pressing her lips together as she broke away from him. Finn could only sigh, looking down at his feet as he saw her shadow shift and when he looked back up, her arms were crossed.

"I lied, Rachel," he whispered, through a momentary pause in the music. "Quinn filled my head with stuff. She told me that if I went with you to New York, I'd be holding you back. That you'd focus on me too much and then you would abandon your dreams of Broadway. She said that I was going to prevent you from being the star that you could become and I wanted the best for you. I wanted you to become a star. That's always what you've deserved."

"I can't decide if that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard, or the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Rachel admitted, hands on her hips as she looked up at him with that _disdainful_ (a word he had learned from her) glare that she only reserved for when she was really disappointed in him. "Finn Hudson, when are you going to learn, that _you_ make me feel like a star. All I've ever wanted was to feel special. _You_ made me feel special, Finn. I know what it's like to play to a sold out Broadway audience, none of it compares to how _you_ made me feel. No one will ever make me feel that way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so stupid," he mumbled, kicking himself mentally, and if it had been possible for him to kick himself physically, he would have done that too. Quinn was right, she was too good for him. He had hurt her. All he ever did was hurt her.

"Yes, you are," Rachel agreed, nodding. "I've always loved you, even when I shouldn't…"

"Do you still love me now?"

The question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He had never stopped loving Rachel. He was pretty sure that once he had given her up, he had solidified that fact. No one was going to be Rachel Berry for him. No one was going to live up to the high standard that she had set. She had once called herself selfish, and in some cases, maybe that was true, but when it came to him, no one had ever loved him like she did. When they had been together, even just holding her had made him feel like the luckiest guy ever. He was dumb to let that go.

Closing his eyes as she hesitated to answer, Finn knew it was a stupid thing to ask. Of course she didn't love him, it had been fi- "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes, Finn, I still love you. I will always love you. I tried very hard to stop, to be mad at you, to focus on my dreams, but you will always be the one thing that's missing when I go to sleep at night," she admitted, looking down.

Maybe it was the alcohol impairing his judgment, maybe it was that he just really wanted to do it, regardless, Finn pulled Rachel to him and tilted her head up, pressing his lips to hers. People in movies always made those kisses where people were reuniting seem really overdone and fancy. Finn now understood that that wasn't acting. While it was new, and foreign, because they hadn't done this in so long, she tasted the exact same way, her fingers were threading through his hair in the exact same spot, and she still fit against him as perfectly as she used to.

"I love you," he mumbled, pulling away from her lips temporarily, his fingers still tangled in her hair.

"I want you," she pleaded, pressing herself against him. "I've missed you so much, Finn, I just… want you."

"I want you too, but we're at the wedding," he reminded her. Now was seriously not the time nor the place to be having sex. After all, he was the best man, anybody could come looking for him at any time.

"Please," she begged. "I know how much you want this too, I can _feel it_, Finn." With that, she reached down to cup him through his pants, which was quite a feat considering that she was pressed against him so tightly.

"Rach, there are people around," he insisted, biting down on his lip. He wanted her so fucking badly, but anyone could walk in at any moment. It didn't seem like a good idea.

"Please Finn," Rachel whined, leaning up to his ear, nipping on it gently. "I'm not wearing any panties under this dress."

_Oh God_. He seriously had a hard time (in every which way) saying no to that. But where were they going to go? The closets were key locked and the kitchen was going to be bringing food. The bathroom seemed really unclassy. And – whoa, okay, apparently she already had the answer. Looking down curiously at her as she ducked down, Finn doubled checked to make sure that no one was watching and ducked down with her, lifting the tablecloth to climb under the table with her.

"Rachel, what are you doing under he-"

"Shh," she whispered, straddling his lap as her hands moved to undo his belt. "The tablecloth goes to the floor, no one will see."

_Damn_, he had missed her intellect, and it could really come in handy sometimes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking at her.

"I'm sure. I need you inside of me, Finn. I need you to make me come," she whimpered, pressing her lips to his urgently as she fumbled with the button on his pants, guiding his hand under the front of her dress. Finn needed no instructions to move his hand up the rest of the way, letting his finger part her folds, moaning as it got coated in her wetness.

"Shit, Rachel," he mumbled, nipping at her lip gently as she unzipped his pants. Pushing himself up with his free hand, she tugged his pants down, bringing his boxers with him, as far as she could. It was enough. There was no time to get their clothes off, and the table was cramped. As much out of urgency of not being caught as the urgency of needing to be in her, Finn rubbed her clit at a quick pace, moaning against her lips as her hips pushed down against his fingers.

"Finn, I can't wait. I need you inside of me," she begged, though her begging was rather pointless since she was shifting closer to him and lining them up. He had forgotten this feeling, of what it was like to be in her. He remembered that he enjoyed it, but he had forgotten why. Everything about this, despite it being on the carpeted floor of a hotel ballroom, was perfect. She was so warm, and tight, and wet and he had forgotten how good it felt to have her walls clinging at him, like she didn't want him to leave her for any reason. Her face was buried in his neck and he had an arm wrapped around her waist while the other helped her move gently.

"I missed you," Finn whimpered, bucking his hips up into hers, pushing deeper. Everything that he had loved about her was coming back to him. The smell of her perfume (Chanel N. 5) mixed in with her shampoo (Herbal essences, strawberry kiwi), the way her hips rolled against his, letting her clit grind against him, the way she was clinging to him for dear life. This was what it felt like when they had said goodbye. She had begged him for one last time, since she had never stuck to her plan of having sex when she was twenty-five (she had abstained as far as their hotel room at Nationals) and she had clung to him like this, for dear life, she had purred and moaned in his ear the same way that she was now.

"Fuck," Rachel whispered, giggling quietly as she accidentally hit the table with her foot and it wiggled slightly. "You feel so good," she added, arching her back as he bucked his hips hard, pushing deep inside of her, causing them both to moan. This wasn't about lasting. It was about getting to that all important place together where she would say his name and he would say hers and they would shiver and moan and then everything would fade back to normal. Angling them a bit so he'd hit against her spot, Finn smiled to himself as he heard the familiar "Oh!" that he had missed so much.

"Rachel," he groaned, biting down on his lip as she moved her hips more urgently against his. He could feel her gripping at his hair for dear life, and her toes were probably curling in her shoes and-

"This wedding is so fucking _boring."_

Instantly, they both froze. Finn's hips stopped pushing against hers and she stopped moving. _Shit_, someone was at their table. Covering Rachel's mouth as she gasped, a set of shoes moving under the table. Finn pulled his foot away from them quickly. Of course, he knew who the voice belonged to. Santana Lopez had one of those voices you didn't need to see to know.

"Well, maybe I could make it a bit more interesting," came a quiet giggle from one Brittany Pierce.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. I'm thinking that maybe I could get up on this table and do a little striptease for everyone!"

Finn rolled his eyes. Santana and Brittany _would_ inadvertently interrupt them having sex so that they could talk about something like that. He was still inside of Rachel, as deep as he could probably go, and she was looking up at the top of the table. She looked like she wanted to throw daggers at the invisible faces that matched the voices they were hearing.

"That would be hot, baby. But a little too hot. Besides, your shows are for me and me only, you know that."

"Maybe I should give everyone a _show_ and eat you out right here on this table. I bet everyone would want to look at that."

"I would play it up, moan extra loud if you did, just so everyone knows how great you are in bed… or out for that matter."

"Well maybe I'd have to make it extra good so you wouldn't have to fake anything."

"That's an even better idea, babe."

"You're wet enough for it…"

Both Finn and Rachel wrinkled their nose simultaneously. _Ew_.

"And you're naughty for feeling me up at a wedding."

"Maybe you shouldn't have worn such a short dress if you didn't want me to feel me up."

"Or maybe I wore it because I knew that you would."

"You're a tease."

"You like it."

"You know what else I like? Making you come."

"Well maybe we should make that happen."

"On the table?"

"No, Britt, not on the table."

"But it would be so fun!"

"But I don't feel like everyone getting to see my pussy."

"I don't want everyone to see it either."

"So let's go home and then you can look at it all you want."

"You're the best, San."

"I know."

Rachel had covered her ears and Finn had done the same. Honestly, a younger Finn Hudson would have been turned on by this, but he had no desire to know what his friends were doing in their spare time. All Finn wanted was to finish what they had started, and he knew that Rachel was close because she'd been subtly circling her hips, letting him tease her spot gently.

Waiting a few seconds to make sure that they were gone, Rachel moved her hips against his again furiously. "I want to come for you, Finn," she whimpered, making sure that he hit against her spot every time. Her back was arching a familiar arch, and she was starting to clench around him.

"So come for me, Rachel. Please," he begged, holding her close to him as she shuddered against him and tightened around him hard, moaning his name into his neck. That was all it took, the familiar shudder and the moan that was just loud enough, for Finn to tumble over the edge as well, spilling into her with a loud groan, thankfully muffled by the music of the band that was playing.

Holding her tightly as they panted, Finn had no idea what happened now. She was still clinging to him for dear life, a hand fisted into his hair as she shivered again, letting her aftershocks ripple through her. Pressing his forehead against her shoulder, he was thankful that she was the one to break the silence. "I missed that," she mumbled.

"Me too," he admitted, rubbing her back gently.

"I love you," she whispered, grinning against his neck, before pulling apart.

"Break a leg," he grinned.

It didn't matter that they had made up under the table at someone else's wedding, or that it had been momentarily interrupted. All that mattered was that they had made up. It was all going to be okay. And this time, he knew that okay was going to last forever.


End file.
